A/N: A special thanks to @rogerandhishair for helping me with the ending and instilling confidence in my self depreciating ass!
Olivia was absent from the next two writing sessions before the tour, making some sort of lame excuse about not feeling well, which they barely believed. Roger saw right through it immediately, knowing something happened between Liv and John, but having no idea exactly what because she refused to tell him.
It took a large amount of convincing from Mary to even get Liv to show up at the airport on the day the boys were leaving for the states. As far as she was concerned, she’d already wished everyone she wanted to speak to goodbye, and it was easier to not have to see them right before they took off because it just made her more upset. Roger had phoned her and asked if she wanted to tag along on tour with them, but she declined quickly. There was no way she would be stuck on a bus with both John and whoever Roger was going to shag for the night. The stress would kill her.
Mary and the boys were beginning to think that her convincing wasn’t going to work, and that Liv was actually not going to pop by to see them off, considering it was getting fairly close to the time that they would have to board their flight. But, soon enough, a head of wavy brown hair could be seen making its way through the crowd and directly toward them.
Liv walked up, a bit of a forced smile on her lips, and looked over all four of the boys reluctantly. It was the first time she’d been face to face with John since their spat, and it was clear there was tension in the air between them. If the others didn’t know why Liv had been absent before, they definitely had some sort of idea now.
Brian stepped forward to hopefully break the thick atmosphere, wrapping his arms around his sister tightly. “Going to miss you, you brat.”
Liv laughed softly and gave him a little squeeze before stepping back, wiping some tears away that were already beginning to form. “You better call me at the first chance you get.” Brian smiled and nodded in response, stepping away as well when Freddie nudged his way in.
Fred literally picked Liv up and twirled her around, causing her to both gasp and giggle simultaneously. “Jesus, Freddie! Put me down!” And he did, albeit dramatically.
“Keep eachother company while we’re gone.” Freddie tapped both Liv’s and Mary’s nose’s playfully, before leaning in and leaving a lasting kiss on Mary’s lips.
Liv cooed at the couple, wishing she could have something like that, but was distracted from her thoughts when Roger walked up and placed his hands on her shoulders. “You’re sure you don’t want to come with us? We could get you on the soonest flight tomorrow so you have time to pack, wait for you at the airport…”
Liv shook her head, smiling sadly up at Roger as more tears pooled in her eyes. “I’m going to stay here, Rog. With Mary. That’s what I should do.” There was clear disappointment in his eyes as he processed her words, but nodded his head anyway.
He tugged her into a hug and rested his chin on the top of her head, sighing. “I’m going to miss you, Liv.” Roger said it quietly, not wanting anyone else to hear it. Clearly he didn’t want the band to know he was just a big softie, especially when it came down to his best friend.
“I love you Rog, you’re going to kill it. You better also call me! Or, better yet, write me.” She buried her face into his chest as they embraced, successfully leaving a tear stain on his shirt.
As much as he wanted to stay embraced with her for a while, Roger pulled back and thumbed away some of the tears on her cheeks. “We’ll be back before you know it. Just try not to forget about us.” He winked, completely kidding.
Liv laughed, scrunching her nose up at him. “You’re going on tour, not to war, you idiot.” She shoved his chest, watching as he walked away to converse with the others, leaving her and John completely alone.
Olivia turned toward him slowly, arms crossed over her chest and eyes focused directly on him, There wasn’t much, if anything, that she had to say to him at the moment. Yes, she wanted to yell, to slap him, but that wasn’t something she could do in the middle of the airport, especially with the rest of the band around. Liv kept her business private, and she absolutely didn’t want to air her and John’s dirty laundry out to the people they were close with.
John stepped toward Liv tentatively, and it took everything in the woman’s being not to step back from him as he came closer. She wanted to give him the cold shoulder, to just completely blow him off and leave, but no matter what he did to her, she just couldn’t. Her heart still sang for him, no matter how much she wanted it to not.
There was an awkward silence before John cleared his throat, shifting from foot to foot. “Take care of yourself, okay?” He spoke quietly, reaching out to pull her into a hug.
Liv’s body was rigid against his and her hand came up to unenthusiastically pat his back, wanting nothing more than for this moment to end. When they pulled back, she offered him a half hearted nod before stepping even farther away from him.
AN: This is a part two to Betrayal, which was originally a request from my 1k Celebration. There was a large request for a part two, so I happily obliged 😊 I do want to make a disclaimer that I do not condone cheating even in the slightest! I’ve been cheated on numerous times before, and it’s one of the worst things you can do to someone you care about. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy it!
It had been a couple of days since you had woken up in Brian’s room. You hadn’t heard from Brian or Roger, so you had no idea how things had gone between the two of them. You had hoped that Roger had listened to you and placed all the blame on you. You still didn’t remember who had initiated the decision of you going home with Brian, but it didn’t matter. Brian was his best friend and his band mate. You were just a girl who could easily be replaced. You had proven that you weren’t trustworthy enough.
You had locked yourself in your apartment, and hadn’t stepped outside since you got back from Roger’s flat. Your hair was greasy and pulled up into a messy bun on the top of your head, and you were wearing a sweater that Roger had left at your place. You knew that you were just torturing yourself by wearing something that smelled like him, but you didn’t care. You wanted to mourn the loss of one of the best relationships you had ever had. You wanted to hurt. You wanted to hold on to that last piece of him for as long as you could.
You were sat on your couch, a tub of ice cream in your hand, watching a cheesy drama on the television when there was a knock on your door. Your hand froze over your spoon, and your wide eyes turned towards the door. You hadn’t been expecting any visitors. You thought that you had been successful in shutting everyone out by not answering your phone and never calling anyone back. There was a moment of silence, in which you turned your attention back to the tv, when there was another, more insistent knocking.
Slowly, you set your ice cream on the coffee table in front of you, and grabbed a pair of sweatpants that were hanging over the arm of the couch and slipped them on. Another knock rang out through the apartment, and you grew even more confused over who could want you to answer so badly. Finally, you made it to the door, undid the locks and hesitantly pulled it open. Your heart stopped when your eyes landed on the man standing on the other side.
Roger’s normally beautiful blond hair was a mess, and his eyes were downcast on the floor in front of him. When he heard the lock slide open, his eyes lifted and you were shocked at the dark circles around them. He looked tired, he looked lost, and when he saw you, he just looked sad.
“Roger? What are you doing here?” You asked quietly, still hiding yourself partly behind the door. He didn’t respond, but only motioned his hand towards you as if asking if he could come in. You gave him a small nod and pulled the door open farther so that he could squeeze through.
You immediately became aware of how big of a mess your apartment was. You hadn’t bothered taking out the trash and there were empty pizza boxes and take-out cartons cluttering your dining room table. You watched as Roger looked at the mess around him, and even though your apartment was filled with junk, you knew that it didn’t look nearly as bad as you did.
“I talked to Brian.” Roger said quietly, as his eyes landing on you again.
“Roger, please don’t be mad at him. It was all my fault, and it was a stupid mistake-“
“Funny. He said the same thing about you. Claimed he was the one who made the first move.”
Your stomach dropped and you could feel confusion taking over your features. Why would Brian say something like that? Maybe he was just trying to protect you like you were trying to protect him. You didn’t know what else to say. You really didn’t have any idea on what happened, as much as you wished you could give Roger an explanation.
“I never wanted to hurt you, Roger.”
His normally brilliant, lively blue eyes stared back at you seemingly lifeless. You could tell that, like you, he hadn’t been sleeping. You felt nervous under his gaze as he continued to stay silent. You wanted to know what he was thinking. You wanted him to tell you why he was here. You had resigned yourself to the fact that he would never speak to you again. You sure didn’t deserve it. Roger quietly made his way over to your couch and took a seat on it.
“It’s also funny, because I believe you. I’ve always been the one on your side of this situation, so I never realized how bad it hurt to be on the receiving end.” You felt a pang in your chest at the sadness in his voice. He was rubbing his face with his hand, his eyes didn’t meet yours. “I miss you, YN.”
Your heart flipped and you couldn’t stop yourself from taking a step closer to him. He had stopped rubbing his face, but he was only looking at his hands. He should have been angry with you. You didn’t want to delude yourself into believing that he was really going to forgive you. When you didn’t say anything, Roger looked back up at you.
“As much as I want to hate you, I still love you.” There was a strain to his voice, and you could see the unshed tears forming in his eyes. The sight caused a lump in your throat, and you felt you knees go weak. You hadn’t allowed yourself to cry all day, trying to accept the fact that he was gone. But now, you took a seat on the end of the couch farthest away from him, and you felt a tear run down your cheek.
“I never stopped loving you, Rog. I have never imagined myself with anyone but you, and I wish that I could take back what happened. It was a mistake, and I can assure you that there were never any feelings between Brian and I.”
He nodded stiffly, as he inched towards you, and his hand reached out to brush the tears away from your eyes. Your breathing faltered at his touch and your eyes slipped shut at the sensation that spread through your body. While you couldn’t remember the night you spent with Brian, you knew that anything that two of you had done had not felt even remotely close to how it felt just to have one of Roger’s fingers flutter across your skin.
“I don’t know if I can move past this very quickly.” He whispered, and you could feel the couch dip down as he scooted closer to you. You still hadn’t opened your eyes. “But I really don’t know if I can move on without you.”
Your eyes snapped open, and you became fully aware of just how close Roger was. His eyes were scanning your face, and you could now make out the redness of his eyes and the frown lines that were growing ever prominent near his mouth.
You weren’t sure if you should, but you slowly lifted your hand to press gently against his cheek. He leaned into your touch and you felt like you couldn’t breathe. It had only been two days, but they had been the loneliest two days of your life. Without Roger, you had been ready to completely give up. But here he was, giving you hope.
“I love you.” You whispered, your thumb rubbing gentle circles against his cheek. You didn’t need him to respond. You didn’t need him to say anything, because you just wanted him to hear you. You needed him to know how you felt, and how you had always felt. “I would spend forever making this up to you if I could.”
You hadn’t ever seen the vulnerable look at that was now on Roger’s face. His cheek was still pressed firmly against your palm, and his eyes were wide as he stared at you. Every feature in his face had softened and you couldn’t help but feel like he looked like a small boy. The image both warmed and hurt your heart.
“Forever is an awfully long time.” He murmured, his eyes never leaving yours.
“Not nearly long enough.”
Then, for the first time in days, Roger smiled. Your heart leapt in your chest and you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling back. You knew that this wasn’t over. The two of you had a lot of things you needed to work through, and you understood that it may take a while before Roger could completely trust you again. But when he looked at you, and you could see the love in his eyes, you knew that the struggle would be worth it. You were going to keep your word and prove to him that he was the only one for you. Even if it did take forever.
If I tagged you and you saw the notification please let me know!
Pairing: BoRhap!Roger Taylor x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 1.4k
The reader finds out she’s pregnant with Roger’s baby after they’ve broken up
Warnings: Language.
FEEDBACK IS APPRECIATED
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You sat on the toilet, staring at your spotless knickers. Your period was late…your period was never late. Your body was like a clock, never late nor early. It was somewhat comforting, except when it wasn’t.
You were pregnant.
You know who the father was, you hadn’t spoken to him in three weeks, since the two of you broke up and you moved in with your brother.
Roger Taylor, certified womanizer, with a liver of steel and international fame, was the father of your unborn child.
Tears came to your eyes as you remembered the last night you saw him.
It was late, and he was still out. You weren’t surprised by this, Roger had a nasty habit of staying out all night and falling into bed in the early hours of the morning.
Tonight was no different than most.
You were asleep when he stumbled through the door. The sound of the door slamming shut roused you from your slumber.
“Roger?” You called, pulling the blanket up to cover yourself. “Is that you?”
There was a crash and a giggled “Fuck.”
You sighed, lying down on your side and pulling the blanket over your head.
Roger stumbled into the room a few minutes later, and sat on the bed next to you. “(Y/N), are you awake?” His words were slurred.
“I am now,” you said, voice muffled by the blanket over your head.
“Wanna see you,” he whispered, pulling the blanket down. “There she is.” He smiled. “There’s my pretty girl.”
You turned on the bedside lamp. Roger was visibly disheveled, his shirt was rumpled, his hair a mess and eyes red. There was a red lipstick stain on the collar of his shirt that wasn’t there when he left for his gig earlier.
“Have you been smoking pot again?” You asked, a scowl on your face.
Roger’s thumb brushed over your lips. “Little bit.”
“You said you were done smoking.” You shied away from his touch.
He shrugged. “I say a lot of things.”
You scoffed and rolled onto your side, body facing away from him.
“Baby, don’t be mad at me.” Roger groaned, shifting to lie in bed beside you. An unfamiliar smell invaded your senses, it smelled like cheap rose perfume; it made you sick.
“I’m not mad at you,” you snapped a little too harshly.
He wrapped his arms around your body. “Could have fooled me.” He mumbled as one of his hands played with the hem of the shirt you were wearing.
“Why would I be mad that my boyfriend stays out all night partying after shows, and comes home smelling like another woman” You pushed his hands away from you.
But he persisted, pulling you back against him. “She was just some groupie, all she did was flirt with me.” His lips brushed against your shoulder.
“Is that why her lipstick is on the collar of your shirt?” You asked, raising an eyebrow, pushing away his wandering hands once more. “Stop touching me Roger, I’m not in the mood.”
Roger huffed, and pulled away from you. “What the fuck is your problem?”
“What’s my problem?” You shouted, getting out of bed. “I’m the bad guy because I don’t want to have sex with you after you’ve been out all night doing drugs and flirting with other girls? Why don’t you go fuck your groupie instead?”
He stood, stumbling uneasily. “At least she’d put out for me, instead of acting all bitchy.”
You stared at him, blinking in surprise at his words. “What did you just say to me?”
“You’re acting like a real bitch right now.” Roger slurred, swaying on his feet. “You’re always yelling at me for living my life. Maybe if you weren’t so uptight all the time, I would have to have sex with some random girl and get drunk all the time.” He spat.
His words sent a sharp pain through your heart. Your hands shook, and your throat burned with bile. He was blaming you for his bad habits. He was blaming you for cheating. Somehow it was your fault that he drunk and smoke the night away.
“Get out,” you said quietly, voice shaking as your eyes welled up with tears.
Roger seemed to realize his mistake. “(Y/N).”
“GET OUT!” You shouted, grabbing the nearest object, which happened to be an empty ashtray, and throwing it at him. “Get out, Roger, now! I don’t want to look at you! I don’t want to see your face again.”
He ducked, and the ashtray barely missed his shoulder. It dented the wall and shattered on the floor in front of him. “Wait, baby-”
You screamed at him, grabbing the lamp off of the bedside table. “Go spend the night in another woman’s bed. You can blame me for it later.”
“I’m sorry-”
“Leave.” You hissed, holding the lamp up threateningly.
Roger looked at you with sad eyes. His shoulders drooped as he cast you one last apologetic glance, and left the room, still wobbling unsure of himself. You stayed frozen in place, staring at the wall until you heard the front door slam. You set the lamp down, and slid down the wall with shaky legs. You spent the whole night crying, and in the morning, when Roger returned, finally sober, you were gone.
You didn’t really have any other places to go. Luckily for you, your brother lived on the other side of town. He was more than happy to take you in when you showed up on his doorstep the morning after your fight with Roger. You hadn’t really given him many details of that night, not wanting to come between the band, but he got the main gist- Roger had fucked up irreversibly and you left him because of it. Brian had gone to great lengths to make sure you and Roger’s paths had stayed separate, even telling Roger that you had gone to stay with your mother for a while.
Skip to three weeks later, and you were positive it would be impossible to avoid him any longer. You were pregnant with his child after all, he had a right to know about it at least. Or did he? You had a slight inkling in the back of your head that he wasn’t ready to be a father- hell he could barely stay faithful to you during your relationship. You didn’t want to raise a baby on your own, you had a life to live.
You dropped your head into your hands, tears spilling down your cheeks. You didn’t know what you were going to do.
“(Y/N)!” Brian called, knocking on the door.
You jumped, rubbing the back of your hand over your face. “Y-yeah!”
Shit, you definitely sounded like you had been crying.
“Everything alright in there?” He asked. “You’ve been in there for ages, I need to take a piss.”
You stood, fixing your clothes to make yourself presentable. “I’ll be out in a moment.” You flushed the toilet, and washed the visible tear tracks from your face.
Brian was leaning against the door frame when you stepped into the hall. His eyes narrowed at your frazzled appearance. “Hey,” he said softly, grabbing your arm. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak.
“This doesn’t have anything to do with Roger, does it?” He asked, suddenly defensive. “He hasn’t tried to contact you, has he? Because I told him you needed your space right now and if-”
You shook your head. “I’m fine, Bri, honestly.” You seemed to be trying to convince both him and yourself.
Luckily, one of you believed the lie.
“Okay.” Brian brushed his lips against your forehead. “I’m gonna take a shower, and then we can go get lunch, eh?”
“That sounds great.” You put on your best fake smile.
He squeezed your hand. “I’ll be ready in thirty.”
You nodded, as he shot you a reassuring smile, before closing the bathroom door.
You waited in the hall until you could hear the shower running. Once Brian started singing, you headed into the kitchen. You leafed through the phone book Brian kept on the counter near the landline, searching for the nearest clinic. You picked up the landline, and dialed the number you found.
“Thank you for calling, if this is an emergency, please hang up the phone and dial 999, if not please wait and someone will be with you shortly.”
You leaned against the counter, chewing on the pad of your thumb while the busy tone rang. Finally a few minutes later, somebody answered the phone.
“How can we help you today?” A worker asked.
You took a deep breath. “I’d like to schedule an appointment for a pregnancy test.” You said quietly.
Tag List (If I tagged you wrong or you’d like to be tagged, send me an ask):
Summary: The Best Friend Code has been established since you and Roger were kids. You can never lie to each other. You have to tell each other everything. You must always have each other’s back.
As the years go by and as the Best Friend Code evolves, so does the meaning of your friendship with Roger. The lines start to blur and you both start to stray from the code with each rule that’s broken.
It’s only a matter of time until the distance you’ve put between friendship and romance starts to disappear and decide what it means for the future of your relationship with each other.
Warnings: language, angst, mentions of sex & nudity
Word Count: 4.3k+
AUTHOR’S NOTE: she’s here y’all!!! I’m really excited for this series. I think it’s going to be six parts, I just have to see!!! Enjoy and tell me what you think please!
Friendship is a weird and funny thing. It can take on multiple forms and definitions evolve and change as time goes on. There’s your work friends and your school friends. There’s your sports friends and friends from the organizations you’ve joined while at school. Then there’s your family friends and your true friends, your best friends.
Summary: Y/N has a feeling in some way that Roger and her’s love isn’t the same, and she knows it’s not good for either of them. So Y/N has to confront him, and try and save their relationship.
Word Count: 2067
Warnings: Swearing a little bit.
A/N: I don’t think I like this but then I again I don’t really like anything I write. Please leave feedback and let me know if you want a part two I guess!! As always I didn’t proofread so excuse any errors.
You let a sigh escape your lips as you laid the book you were reading down, and checked the time. It was nearly 1 AM and Roger still wasn’t home from the party. You knew he liked to go out with the rest of the band, and that his life was often demanding, so most of the time you let things like this slide. But it’d been happening more recently. He’d come home later than usual, alcohol still staining his breath.
You went to back to reading your book, which you found quite boring but it kept you awake. You were pulled back out of the book when you heard the front door of your home shut. A few seconds later, your blonde boyfriend was standing in the doorway, looking at you. Roger frowned, and spoke. “Why did you wait up for me? Now you’re going to be all sleepy in the morning.” He walked by you, on his way to the bathroom to brush his teeth and everything. A few months ago, he would’ve climbed into bed and given you a long kiss or a hug where he bury his face in your neck. Now, it was just small, quick, meaningless kisses.
He returned from the bathroom a few minutes later, his hair a mess and his chest bare. You could see how tired he was from the long hours in the studio due to recording a new album. “How was your day?” You said, putting your book on your nightstand. “You look exhausted.”
“It was… a day to say the least. Fred always has a perfect vision, and sometimes it’s so…” He shook his head. “Emily helped us all calm down though, it’s really nice to have her there.” Roger said with a smile, and you felt your heart drop. Emily was a new assistant they hired a few months ago, and Roger always talked about her with a grin on his face. It always made you hurt inside when he talked about her, but you reminded yourself he was your boyfriend, not hers.
“Come here, I missed you.” You said patting the empty spot next to you. Roger laid his head in his lap, and let you play with his hair.
“That feels good.” He smiled looking up at you. “Oh I meant to tell you, Emily’s throwing a small party tomorrow for the band… Not really a party, I guess she’s just inviting us and the staff. I won’t be home tomorrow either.”
You felt a deep sigh escape your lips and you froze, you fingers still intertwined with his locks. It was your birthday tomorrow… However you gave him the benefit of doubt. He probably had something special planned, a surprise, you told yourself. “How nice of her…” You said, forcing a smile. You pulled your hands away from his hair, as he sat up.
Roger grabbed your hand and kissed it, before he rolled over and quickly caved to his exhaustion and fell asleep. You stared up at the ceiling, lost in thought, long after he had fallen asleep. You weren’t blind, it was obvious what was going on. The words you exchanged with one another grew smaller and smaller… You loved Roger with your entire heart, and you feared the worst.
********
The next day, your birthday to be exact, you awaited Roger to come home soon so you could out to dinner and celebrate. You’d taken the whole day off of work to be home with him, but he wasn’t anywhere to be seen. You refused to believe the worst, and decided to just call Emily’s house, a number you only had because Roger wrote it down. After a few rings, it was picked up. “Hello?” You instantly recognized the voice.
“Hey Freddie!” You chirped, relieved he was the one to answer and not Emily.
“Y/N! I’m so glad I’ve got the chance to talk to you.” You could hear loud voices in the background. “I wanted to wish you a happy birthday, darling!”
You let out a small laugh. You didn’t expect him to remember. “Thanks Freddie.”
“Now I’m assuming you called for that dumb blonde of yours?” He said jokingly. You could hear Freddie yelling Roger’s named repeatedly. A minute later, you heard a new voice.
“Y/N?”
“Hey, when are you going to come home?” You said, with a hint of sadness in your voice, not knowing where it came from.
“Probably same time as last night. Don’t wait up for me tonight please, you get all tired and sleepy in the mornings when you stay up.” Roger said, and you could tell he was distracted.
“Roger, why don’t you come home earlier? I miss you, and it’s my birthday. I really just wanna spend it together.” Your voice cracked. Instead of an answer, you could hear him talking to someone else, and your question was followed by silence. You could easily make out Emily’s voice accompanied by his laughter.“Roger!”
“Hm?” He hadn’t heard a word of what you said. You opened your mouth to you repeat yourself but he continued. “I’ll talk to you later love, bye.” The line went dead and all you could do was stand there. You looked at the framed photo of you two that sat on your dresser, tears stinging your eyes. It wasn’t the same.
********
Roger stumbled home even later that night–or morning now–being careful not to wake you. Your bedroom light was off, and he just assumed you were asleep. Once he climbed into bed, you both laid there, neither of you asleep.
“Rog?” You said, your eyes damp, and your heart heavy with what you were about to say to him.
“Love, you should really be asleep.” Roger frowned turning on the light next to him.
“I can’t lie anymore Rog, I see how invested you are with Emily, the way you smile when you talk about her…”
Roger swallowed, hard shaking his head. “She’s just my assistant… I–“ He was at a loss for words and you both just laid there for a moment, until you sat up.
“Do you love me?” You’re voice cracked near the end, and you turned away so he couldn’t see the tears in your eyes.
“Of course…” He mumbled, and you just shook your head. He turned the light off and laid back down, trying to fall asleep.
“You missed my birthday.” You said softly, still sitting up. You buried your face in your hands. Roger’s heart dropped, and all he could feel in that moment was guilt. He’d forgot all about it just so he could party. You’d sacrificed so much for him, just to be here with him…
Neither of you were oblivious. In that moment he knew that you knew. You knew a while ago, but you just didn’t want to admit it. Roger, usually not an emotional person, could feel tears stinging at his own eyes. You should’ve seen this coming. “Y/N… Please, say something.” His voice cracking, the silence killing him.
“I gave you three years of my life… I–I gave you everything. I gave up my home and my family to be with you.” You cried out. “For three years, I’ve loved you with my entire heart. Did you love me?”
Roger grabbed your hand and cupped your cheek. “Of course I did. I love you so much.”
A tear rolled down your cheek as you placed your own hand on his. “You love me, but you’re not in love with me.” You murmured.
“Y/N, I’m sor–“
“Don’t be sorry…” You said, removing his cheek. “You’ve just… fallen in love… without me.” You said, a sob escaping your lips. Roger just sat there not knowing what to say. It hurt to see you like this. “Our love used to be so amazing.” You sighed out. “And I wish you would’ve just cheated on me, and been the bad guy, because I can’t be mad at you for falling in love.”
And it was true. There was an aching in your chest, and you didn’t want to let him go, but he didn’t love you back the same way. It would’ve been easier if he actually cheated, so you’d be able to have a clean break. But this was more emotional cheating… It was more heartbreaking. “I just wish you hadn’t lied to me all this time.”
“How could I not?” He replied softly. ““I knew if you ever learned the truth that you’d look at me like you’re looking at me now… But you’re wrong, you know… I do love you, please Y/N.” Roger’s voice trembled.
“Things happen Roger, sometimes love changes. I know you don’t love me like you love her.”
“But I don’t want to let you go.” He said, his voice cracking, looking at you in the dimness of your bedroom. All you could do was bury your face in your hands and cry. “Let me show you I still love you, please Y/N.”
“I’m going to stay at a hotel, for a few nights…” Your voice faded.
Roger wanted to plead and beg you stay. He loved you more than he’d ever love Emily, but he knew you couldn’t stay if he loved you both… He was at a loss for words. As you began to pack a bag of your things, he went outside in his pajamas to get some fresh air. It was freezing, and he could see his breath but he didn’t care. Roger tried to think of solutions to this but couldn’t. The front door swung open, and he finally saw you in all your glory. Your nose was red and your face was splotchy. You messily tied your hair back, with baby hairs erupting from it.
You stared at each other as you stood in the doorway for a few seconds before you walked past him. “Y/N, wait.” Roger grabbed your arm, stopping you in your tracks.
Not knowing when it happened your lips were suddenly locked with Roger’s, kissing him. The start of the soft touch sent a strong feeling of warmth spiraling through your system. Your eyes closed fearlessly, but the closure didn’t let you see darkness, it instead created colours of fondness. Your tense nerves soon began to relax, your troubles, your pain began to melt away and the surroundings began to disappear. For a moment, it was just you and Roger again. This kiss was different from the many kisses, because it was your goodbye kiss. Your tears streamed down, and you didn’t want to break apart, you wanted to stay in his arms forever. “Maybe in another life… In another life things will work out for us. There will be no crazy schedules, no assistants, no missed birthdays… In another life…” You repeated.
Once you did break apart he looked at you, and moved his hand to brush a hair out of your face. “I’m an idiot Y/N…” He titled your chin up, and even though you were a heartbroken mess, Roger thought you looked beautiful under the moonlight.
“Goodbye Roger.” You said softly, your heartbreaking. You threw your stuff into your car, and climbed in. You took one last look at Roger, giving him one last sad smile before you drove off.
Roger stood there, unsure what to do as he watched you drive away. He felt like such an idiot… He forgot your birthday… For months now he had planned an incredible birthday night. Dinner at your favorite Italian restaurant, then a walk in the park where you had your first date… And then he planned to get down on one knee, and ask you to marry him. Roger picked a ring out months ago… He wanted to marry you. “I really fucked this up…” He mumbled in the cold, dark street.
As he headed back inside, he knew he couldn’t live without you. Roger’s mind fell to Emily, her smile, and her laugh, but he instantly realized she didn’t compare to you, nobody would ever compare to you. Roger wanted you, and only you.
Waking up the next morning was a mess of brown hair and limbs, the two of them having pretty much combined in the middle of the bed during the night. One of Liv’s legs was draped over John’s, his arms were wrapped tightly around her middle, and her face was pressed into his chest.
Cracking her eyes open and being met with early morning sunlight, Liv felt as if she wanted to both die immediately and vomit all over the room, but didn’t know in what order. There was a moment she had a lapse in memory, and she almost began to freak out because where the hell was she? But she soon calmed down when she inhaled John’s scent, select memories from the night before coming back to her.
But then the actual panic set in as John himself began to stir, tightening his arms around her, which caused Liv to rip herself away from his half awake form, startled and slightly embarrassed. Sure, she’d woken up the exact same way with Roger before, but that was different. Rog was her best friend, but John was…he was more. John was the gentle soul that Olivia admired and wanted to be around constantly, and she was afraid that her drunken banter last night had put a strain on whatever little friendship they’d formed over the last several months. If anything happened to reset them, she might just throw herself under Rog’s car.
The feeling of Liv moving so suddenly was what had John awake in seconds, his eyes a bit squinty but open, blinking as he tried to focus more on Liv’s sitting form. “Everything alright?” John asked, voice deep with sleep. He propped himself up on his elbow, running his fingers through his hair as he took in the worry that was etched in her eyebrows.
Olivia didn’t answer that question, turning her head slowly to look down at him. The sunlight was hitting him just right, and she bit down hard on her bottom lip. She couldn’t do this right now. Her head hurt far too much and he looked far too adorable for her to form any sort of intelligent conversation. “Can I use your phone?”
AN: Helloooo. This is my first BoRhap story and if you’re interested its going to be a series! I think probably 3 or 4 parts! If its like i imagine it, its going to be very angsty (but i love it). Also english isnt my first language so there probably will be some mistakes 🙂
PS: the first few lines about the reader being pregnant is a foreshadowing about whats to come! The rest of the story tells how the reader ended up at this point! (just clarifying bc there was some confusion) ENJOY!!
You didn’t know what to do. What to think. Your mouth hang open, getting dry from your heavy breathing. You stared at the stick in front of you with your eyes fixated on the little blue plus sign. With your hands shaking you picked up the other two tests that you took from the bathroom counter and looked at their results, just to see another confirmation of your worst fear. You were really pregnant. You feel your knees go weak as you let yourself slide on the bathroom floor hoping the cold tiles on the floor will calm your nerves but it’s useless. You let out a shaky breath before you mutter a desperate “fuck” and close your eyes to stop the tears from falling.
When you got a call from Brian you were surprised. He hadn’t called you in a few months, which you understood with him being on tour in America and the band really taking off. But to be honest you just thought that’s that it for your friendship and he would forget about you eventually with his new lifestyle, which hurt but you were coming to terms with it. He was one of your dearest friends since you were 12, maybe even your best friend. You saw each other every day and were like brother and sister, although some people around town always gossiped that you were more but you and Brian just laughed about it. Your friendship started to strain when you two went to different colleges and only saw each other a few times a month. He would call you every other day to tell you about his band smile and how he missed you and how you should come to their next gig. But unfortunately you barely made it to any gigs, so you only saw smile once live before it evolved into queen.
That was the day you met Roger Taylor for the first time. You remember walking into the small pub where they were playing, cigarette smoke clouding the room and people swaying to the music on the speakers. Brian told you to come early so you can chat before the gig so you did. At this time you hadn’t seen him in a few weeks so you were excited to see him again and to finally witness him playing with his band. Without thinking you walked yourself over to the bar.
The night Freddie first plays with Smile in her pub, Ash thinks her heart might genuinely burst with pride, buzzing behind the bar, beaming at the patrons who she usually just fixes with her winning, customer service smile. Maureen keeps giving knowing glances at the way Ash is all but singing along with the band, bright-eyed, taking any free moment she got to watch them perform.
“So you know Freddie?” After the show, Brian’s sitting in the back of Roger’s van, his guitar already packed away, smiling at Ash who was still grinning with pride.
“‘course I do, he’s the one who suggested you guys to me.” She’s filled with so much overwhelming joy that she can’t help but laugh a little, just basking in the moment, still marvelling at how talented her best friend is.
“He’s the Freddie who suggested us?” Brian asked, eyebrows raised, before turning to the new bass player, a soft spoken man named John, who had a smile like sunshine. “Ash’s mate suggested to her we play here a few months ago.” Brian explained, to which John nodded in understanding, and Ash made a noise of confirmation. After a moment of silence, the back door came crashing open and Ash jumped as the door hit the side of the milk crate she’d been sitting on, and Freddie himself joins them, with Roger’s arm around his shoulder.
“You did good mate, sang almost all the right words and everything.” Roger crowed, smiling at the boys by the van before turning. “Didn’t he, Pocket Rocket?” He asked, and Ash stood, reaching out for Freddie’s hand to pull him out of Roger’s grip and wrap him up in a hug.
“Freds, that was awesome!” She gushed, and he picked her up, spinning her around.
“You really think so?” He asked, pulling back, grinning at her starry-eyed expression, and she nods emphatically, moving to hug him again, letting him rest his chin on the top of her head, both practically glowing with pride.
“Rog, did you know Freddie’s the one who introduced us to Rocket?” Brian asks as the drummer joined the others by the van, pulling out a cigarette.
“Figures, I knew they were mates.” He says it so casually, lighting the cigarette and pocketing the lighter, before he finally acknowledges Brian’s confused expression. “She’s got a photo of them together, would be weird if she didn’t know him.” He says, like it’s answer enough, and Ash goes completely still.
“What?” Brian asks with a half laugh, and Ash is glad that she’s mostly hidden from view by Freddie, but then he pulls back from their hug, his eyebrows raised in amusement. He knows exactly which photo Roger’s talking about, it’s the Polaroid she has pinned up on the cork board in her room, taken at a uni event at the end of the previous year, up along with some other pictures of friends and family. He also knows it’s the only photo she has of the two of them.
“In my wallet.” Ash, quickly stepping thinking on her feet, speaks with a clipped tone, heart in her throat. She steps around Freddie’s knowing look to face at the others, Brian squinting at Roger, who had frozen, cigarette hanging from his lips. “I left it out here once and he found it.” After a beat, she sees Roger relax and breathe out a cloud of smoke. “’s why I don’t bring my wallet anymore.” That part’s only partially a lie, she never brought her wallet to begin with, never had a need for it.
“In your wallet? Darling, that’s so sweet.” Freddie cooed, teasingly, and though Ash’s expression was bright, she’d never wanted to smack him more in her life; they both knew he knew she was lying.
“Of course!” The smile she wore didn’t reach her eyes when she turned to look at him. “How else would I be able to say,” and she mimed pulling out her wallet, holding it up, displaying it, “did you know my best friend is in a band?” And Freddie burst out laughing at that, though it’s when she hears snickers from the rest of the boys that she finally lets herself relax.
Roger shoots her a small smile when she turns back, and she rolls her eyes at him. At first, Ash had been surprised that Roger wanted to keep it quiet, but then he’d said something offhand about how Brian would probably deck him if he learned Roger put one of their regular gigs in jeopardy. As for Ash, she didn’t want her boss knowing she’d hooked up with the member of one of their most profitable bands, so she was happy to be discrete.
After a few more minutes of small talk with the band, she heads back in to the bar, and takes a moment to breathe. She loses herself in her work, forgetting the momentary slip-up, pouring drinks and pandering to the tipsy customers, and she finds herself actually enjoying the rest of her night. That is, until she comes out of the bathroom to find Roger waiting for her.
“Sorry ‘bout that.” He starts, and Ash rolls her eyes at him, breezing past, back to the bar. There’s not a lot of people left, Maureen’s got it under control, and so Ash grabs a cloth to start wiping down the tables.
“How’d you even remember the photo?” She asked, barely paying him any attention as she worked. He sat at the table she was wiping, and after a beat in which he didn’t answer, she paused in her movement, looking up at him. He just shrugged at her. “You know Freddie definitely knows something’s up.” She told him, eyes narrowed.
“It’s not my fault you apparently only own one photo of your best friend.” Roger snorted, and Ash looked up, glaring at him, suddenly paranoid of being overheard.
“Who is where exactly?” Ash asked, and Roger rolled his eyes.
“The rest of the band have gone home, don’t worry.” He told her, and Ash’s anger deflated at that, dropping her gaze.
“No, it’s your fault for mentioning the photo at all.” She snapped, moving on to the next table. “You could have just said no to Brian when he asked if you knew about me and Freddie.” And when he followed her to the next table, she gave up, moving to throw her cloth over the bar.
“I said I’m sorry, what more do you want from me?” He threw his hands in exasperation, leaning on the bar as she picked up the bin and headed for the back door. If they were going to have this conversation, she wasn’t going to let it happen in the bar.
“You’re a fucking idiot, Roger.” She scoffed, not even looking at him as she tipped the bar’s bin into the skip outside, practically fuming by now.
“Oh, that’s rich,” he spat, following it with a humourless laugh, and Ash whirled around, dropping the bin and stalking up to him where he was leaning against his van, her expression furious.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” She snarled, the two now toe-to-toe. They were so close he could practically feel the anger radiating off of her.
“It means I wasn’t the only one in that bedroom.” He said, voice low and dangerous, but his words just made Ash confused.
“But you’re the only one who’s managed to fuck up; I’m the one who cleaned up your mess! See, this is why you’re an-”
“Don’t you dare call me an idiot.” He warned, and Ash gave him a sharp, malice laced smile.
“Make me-” She doesn’t even get the first syllable of the taunting nickname out, because Roger crashes his lips to hers. They’re both acting out of instinct, rough and angry, her hands in his hair, tugging as a response when he bites her bottom lip. After a moment, she pulls back, both panting as they glare at each other. Without a word, Ash jumps, wrapping her legs around his waist, and he catches her, nails digging into her thighs enough to sting as he flips the two of them so her back is pressed to the side of his van.
“Are we really doing this again? Right after we almost got busted?” He asked, giving her thigh a squeeze, more out of habit than anything else.
“After you almost got us busted?” Ash asked, raising a single eyebrow. Roger just glares in response, choosing to kiss her again instead of shooting back an angry reply. After a few more moments where Roger presses against her, lips against hers hungry and desperate, Ash pushes him away, finding her feet before she goes crashing to the ground.
“I gotta do my job.” It sounds like the thought’s just occurred to her, breathless, leaning against the van to catch her breath.
“So we’re… not doing this?” Roger asked, frowning in his sudden confusion. Smoothing out her wrinkled shirt, Ash smirks up at him.
“Oh, no, we’re definitely doing this, I just need to clock out for the night.” And she heads back inside. Roger, for his part, leaned his forehead against the van, replaying everything that had happened, trying to figure out how it had led here, again, not that he was complaining.
“This,” the moment the back door of the pub opens, he can hear her voice, and when he looks over, she’s gesturing between the two of them, expression strangely determined, “is not a thing. We’re not a thing.” She’s adamant, and Roger rolls his eyes, opening the driver’s side door to the van.
“I don’t care what you call it.” He responded with an eye roll, climbing in the van, waiting for her to climb in the passenger side door so he could drive them both back to her place.
There’s a tension in the air the moment she closes her door, and they sit for a moment, his hands on the wheel and keys in the ignition, but the van remains quiet. Then, she’s leaning over and kissing him, climbing over the centre console to sit in his lap in the driver’s seat, his hands on her ass, her hands on his shoulders grinning as he groans against her lips when she grinds against him.
It’s not like last time, it’s angry and desperate, both furious at the other for almost being caught out earlier that night, a little mad at the fact that they’re sleeping together again, despite the fact that they were thoroughly enjoying every minute. They bruise, and bite, and hold each other a little too tight, a little too rough, and when Ash feels his teeth against her shoulder where he’s muffling a moan, she’s pretty sure it’s the best night she’s had in a very long time.
“I’m not kidding,” she finds herself saying, sitting up as she reaches into her drawer to pull out her cigarettes, coming down off the high of endorphins. The both of them are panting, “this isn’t going to happen again.” And she tries to sound firm about it, but when she looks over, Roger’s smirking up at her where he’s still sprawled out, heart beating erratically in his chest.
“Sure,” he doesn’t sound convinced, and holds out his hand for the cigarette after she’s taken a draft.
“I’m serious, I don’t do casual anymore!” She told him, and she waves off his response before he even says it. “I don’t do casual with the same person anymore.” She corrects herself, and Roger laughs, low and warm.
“I think you do casual very well,” and he reaches over to give her thigh a squeeze before passing back the cigarette. Time drifts by lazily in the silence, Ash taking a few puffs before she passes the cigarette back, fiddling with her fingers.
“We can fuck whoever we want.” She speaks, but it doesn’t sound like it’s entirely directed at him, actually, it sounds more like a nervous question, and Roger frowns.
“Yeah, of course.” He agrees, and Ash takes a deep breath. On the exhale, he looks up at her, and sees her quiet, reserved smile. It’s… it’s not something he’s seen before, she’s usually so sure of herself, it reminds him a little of their last conversation, and he hears himself asking about it before he can even register the full thought. “Why don’t you do casual?”
Ash pulls out another cigarette and lights it up, expression dark as she focuses on the task. She’s closing off again, he can tell, and he’s not sure why, but his heart hurts just a little.
“Bad experiences.” She makes a point to enunciate around the cigarette, avoiding looking at him altogether.
“Do you think I’m a bad experience.” He asks it honestly, curious as to what her answer will be.
“‘re you seeing someone?” She asks frankly, and he answers that he’s not. “You gonna fuck whoever you want, and let me do the same?”
“Of course.” He half laughs, and finally she looks at him, eyes narrowed, analysing. Taking another long draft, she hums thoughtfully.
“Then I don’t know.” After another drag, her lips twist into a sad little smile that makes Roger frown. “I haven’t fucked around like that with someone half-decent before.” Which only makes him frown harder.
“Who have you fucked around with?” He scoffs, and Ash raises her eyebrows, laughing a little, surprise written all over her features.
“I never claimed to have great taste.” And when she says it, Roger presses a hand to his heart, mock offended. The gesture has her laughing, bright and genuine, the sound brightening up the whole room, and Roger grins in return.
“Well I think you’ve got a great taste.” He purrs, propping himself up to reach across her to stub out his cigarette in the ash tray on her bedside table. This, of course, only causes her to laugh harder, blush rising on her cheeks as his hand find’s it’s way to her inner thigh, not letting her miss the double meaning in his words as his fingers drifted higher.
He presses a kiss to her jaw as she finishes off her cigarette, not looking at him for fear that she would burst out laughing again, and start coughing for the smoke. He starts kissing his way down her chest when she stubs out the cigarette, and when he feels her fingers card through his hair, he looks up. She’s smiling at him, warm, amused and affectionate, and something in his chest tightens a bit. He grins back, and moves lower.
The next morning, she warns him to forget everything in her room, but he knows he’s not going to forget the mug with the little cat face on it that she passes him, full of tea, or the fluffy blue bathrobe she’s wrapped around herself, and later, when they’re both crammed in a shower in the dorm’s shared bathroom, trying to be quiet and failing miserably, he knows the mandarin scent of her shampoo is one that he won’t forget soon.
Things between them are… well, they’re easier after that. Whenever the band comes to play at her pub, she greets them all with a warm smile, hugging each of them in greeting, even Roger, getting them all drinks, and cheering them on throughout the night. Sometimes Roger goes home with other girls, and there’s a weird mix of feelings in Ash’s heart, a relief that he’d kept his promise, that they could keep seeing other people, but part of her, well, if she was being honest, she was a little jealous.
There’s anxiety in her heart the night a pretty boy flirts with her, and she realises she wants to take him home, but she’s still got a lingering fear of Roger’s reaction, not because of Roger himself, but from boys in the past. The band isn’t playing that night, and she decides to throw caution to the wind. The boy diligently waits until she’s dismissed for the night, and then he laces his fingers with hers as they leave the pub. He’s soft and kind, knows what he’s doing, mostly, which is nice, and it’s a fun night. Ash lets herself have fun.
But sometimes they do go home together, not super often, once, maybe twice a month, he’ll catch her during her break before the others join them, and he risks kissing her in the light of the street lamp, and something in her chest eases. Or he catches her eye when he’s playing, and she’s drying glasses behind the bar, and she grins at him, giving him a wink, and he looks away, laughing.
“You guys are playing really well.” She grins when the band comes up to collect drinks, and Roger’s suppressing a smile, trying not to look at her, and the others just enjoy the praise.
The rest of the band hasn’t caught on, which they’re both grateful for, though Freddie has his suspicions. Maureen knows, but has been sworn to secrecy, and so Ash lets herself feel safe. Being with Roger is easy, it’s fun, he makes her laugh, and he eases the anxiety that clutches at her chest, not that she’d ever tell him that.
“What’s he doing here?” Brian’s voice is low where he’s tuning his guitar, nodding over to a man who’d just entered the bar, looking out of place. “You think he’s some executive or something?” He asked, a little hopeful, and Roger snorted.
“He’s wearing tweed, so I doubt it.” The man looks too old to be part of the crowd they usually draw in, but he doesn’t even spare them a passing glance. Instead, he makes a beeline for the bar where Ash is hanging up champagne flutes.
“Ashley, is that you?” His voice is smooth as honey, and the moment he speaks, Ash drops the glass she’s holding. It shatters, but she’s frozen, face blank, looking at the newcomer. The hairs on the back of Roger’s neck stand up the moment the man leans casually on the bar, like he owns the place, and he’s watching the exchange like a hawk.
“I’m working.” Is all Ash can say, still frozen in place. The man looks old enough to be her father.
“I can see that; you look lovely, by the way.” He tells her, and there’s something soft in his voice, the way he speaks to her, so familiar and intimate, and Ash unfreezes. The surprise comes when she ducks her head, smiling bashfully.
“Yeah, I, um, can I get you anything?” She asks, flushing, ducking quickly to find a dustpan and sweep up the broken glass. He orders a pint, and sits himself at the bar, letting Ash get on with her job, but his very presence flusters her, a state Roger had never seen her in at work, since she as usually so calm and confident.
None of the rest of the band seems to notice him, and they start soon enough, but the man’s there all night, waiting quietly and nursing his drinks, never straying too far from the bar. Roger sees the leering gaze flicks over the young girls in the crowd, and knows instinctually that Ash can’t see it. She doesn’t look to Roger all night, but she keeps glancing over at the man, surprisingly nervous, and when the third set ends and she’s due to take her break, she says something to him, and the two of them make their way out to the car park, the man taking her hand once she’s out from behind the bar.
Roger feels ill. Not because Ash is paying someone else attention, they’ve both been very clear about getting with other people, but something about the man sets him on edge.
A/N: this bit was inspired by a recording of Brian (x) and I immediately felt inspired to write it. this is going to have tons of typos maybe because its 5am and im thisclose to collapsing. please send some positive vibes if u can because i have 2 exams today i probably will not survive but hey!!
London, 1972
Your fiancé is a grown man. A smart, sensible, courteous, responsible grown man.
These were the things you kept repeating to yourself as you sat in the light of a candlestick waiting for him to come home.
He did tell you he was going to be home late, a big gig and all since Queen was starting to draw a crowd the more they played, but you didn’t think it would be 4AM late. You flexed your aching shoulders and sighed.
He’s a rockstar. Or rather he’s well on his way to becoming one. And you’re not very sure if you have the ability to keep up with his life. Brian has always been a busy man even before Queen, even before Smile. You couldn’t explain it, but there was always this hunger in him to improve himself, for whatever reason you’re not sure.
He tried cooking once in the early days when you first moved in together, during the days you were finishing your thesis and barely had the time nor appetite to eat. On the second week that you grabbed a slice of plain bread for dinner, he immediately called up his mum and asked how to cook.
You recall smelling the food before he even served it. You had your nose in your codal book when he approached from behind you, giving you a swift peck on your shoulder before putting down a bowl of shepherd’s pie and garlic bread with a glass of apple juice.
“You should eat love. Your brain won’t function if you’re starving,” he smiled, but you can detect the nervousness in his voice.
Your heart swelled at the kind gesture. You gave him a sweet kiss. “I must have done something good before to have you in my life.”
He nuzzled your nose and sat in front of you, avidly watching. At that time, you didn’t know what you were putting in your mouth. Immediately upon contact on the food on your tongue, you thought that Brian was definitely poisoning you. The endless sleepless nights and barely eating had taken a toll on your body and now he’s too disgusted to live with you and has decided to kill you. You felt your lips shrivel from how salty it was. The roof of your mouth burned and you felt the saliva flooding from under your tongue. You were amazed at the willpower you possessed not to gag on the spot and spit it out.
Brian was watching.
With every ounce of strength you could muster, you immediately swallowed the vile thing and grabbed the apple juice and downed it.
“Mmmm.” you mummed, smacking your lips in an effort to return a semblance of moistness and avoid it bleeding while appearing to have enjoyed his food.
You couldn’t bare to look at his face. You could already feel what he was feeling. “You don’t have to pretend, love.” he said quietly. It broke your heart.
AN: Deciding who to write this about was semi-difficult, but having written so much Ben/Roger stuff, I wanted to switch it up a little bit! All of this is pure fiction, as I do not know every little detail about John Deacon’s wedding or past relationships, so please just use your imagination as I just made things up. I apologize if it is so short, but I hope you enjoy! Hey! Love you writing♥️ don’t know if you’re still taking requests but if you are could you possible do one where you’re in a relationship with one of the boys, don’t mind who, and you go together to one of the other band members weddings and that’s where he realises you’re the one for him! Hope that makes sense. – There had only ever been one girl for John Deacon, so when he announced he was getting married, it had come as no surprise to anyone. He had been buzzing with excitement ever since, and the feeling had become quite contagious.
The wedding day had been gorgeous. The sun had decided to shine, and it was like the entire universe was celebrating the merging of two people who were helplessly in love. With Brian busy helping John, you spent the ceremony and the beginning part of the reception with Mary and Roger’s date. The three of you were having a wonderful time, drinking and laughing, and after the first dance, you found Brian at your side, asking if you wanted to join him on the dancefloor.
The question had surprised you because you never knew Brian as a dancer. But with his bright smile, and his hand reaching out for you, you couldn’t turn him down. He led you into the middle of the floor and with one hand cupping your own, he placed his other hand on your waist and you placed yours on his shoulder.
“Have I told you this afternoon how beautiful you look?” He whispered into your ear as the two of you swayed back and forth. You could feel a blush rising in your cheeks as you nodded.
“Only a few times.” You giggled, your eyes lifting to meet his. “And might I say, you look as handsome as ever.”
Brian’s face lit up, and you rested your head against his chest. The two of you had been together a little over a year now, but with his busy life touring and recording, you had never really discussed the topic of marriage. You were happy with Brian, and you knew that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him, but you understood that it may take him longer to come to that conclusion. You would wait as long as you had to.
The two of you danced together, neither one of you speaking as you allowed the music to conduct your movements. You were blissfully happy, and the sound of Brian’s heart beating against your ear lulled you into a peaceful trance.
x.x.x
Brian had known practically since the moment he met you that he loved you. You were so patient, caring, and funny and he had never met someone who understood him like you did. You had never pushed the idea of getting married and you didn’t get jealous when you would bring up other couple’s engagements. With his busy schedule, Brian had never really entertained the idea of getting married until John announced that he was. He just hadn’t thought that it was fair to propose and then have to go off for months at a time, leaving you behind.
However, as he held you while you danced, he felt a pang in his heart that had started earlier that day when he thought of you. You had looked so beautiful when he picked you up that it had taken his breath away. Seeing how happy John and his new wife were, Brian had started feeling a longing that he never thought he would feel.
He wasn’t sure how you felt about it, but the more he thought about it, the more he was sure that if he were to finally settle down and commit, you were the only girl he wanted to do that with. Your unwavering loyalty, even when life wasn’t really fair to your relationship, was reassurance enough that he had made the right choice when he asked you out.
“Have you ever thought about getting married?” He asked out loud, just as the slow song ended. Your head immediately left his chest and turned up to face him.
“Of course, I have, Bri.” You replied softly, giving him a small smile.
“Have you ever thought about marrying… me?”
Your eyes searched his, a curious expression now on your face.
“Yes.”
Brian’s heart flipped and a lump formed in his throat. You looked so innocent, and so happy, that he couldn’t stop himself from leaning down and capturing your lips in his. He had hoped that you would say yes, and as he looked down at you as you led him off the dancefloor, he knew that you were the one for him. He wouldn’t mention it again now, but he looked forward to the near future, when he would formally ask you to be his forever.
andtheytoldustotellyouhello 